


Breakeven

by thatfamoushappyending (betsytheoven)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Protective Derek, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Sheriff takes Stiles away, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betsytheoven/pseuds/thatfamoushappyending
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek was right. Telling his dad was not a good idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What am I supposed to do

"Dad, I think we need to sit down and talk about... some things." Stiles shifted awkwardly from where he stood in the kitchen. He had secretly prepared a side of bacon with dinner to serve his Dad as a bribe after he broke the news to him. 

His father sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Son, if you don't think I know by now, you don't give me enough credit as a father and as the Sheriff."

Stiles flailed a bit before sitting down at the kitchen table. He shook his head and laughed a bit in relief. "How did you ever figure it out? It's not like it is exactly in your usual line of duty."

His father just grumbled a bit and assured him, "My 'usual line of duty' is anything regarding you, Stiles. And I mean, figuring out that you were bisexual was not exactly the hardest thing I've done in my career." 

Stiles almost fell out of the chair he was tilting back. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, before dodging his father's questioning gaze. 

"Wh-while that is a very...astute observation, Dad, that's not what we need to talk about. This... This has more to do with your job, er, well your job at the Department, not your job around here, which technically isn't a job, but since you just called it that, I just wanted to clarify, but I guess you would have gotten it anyway."

His Dad rubbed his face, "get to the point Stiles."

Stiles shot his father a defeated look before looking down at his hands as they tapped out a beat on the dinner table. He knew he needed to tell him, it wasn't just his son in danger anymore, it was the whole city he was charged with protecting that was now at risk. It's just... things had just calmed down that summer, the pack finally felt stable. Stiles and Derek had been getting along really well, which is what had actually caused Stiles to figure out that he was indeed bisexual. Not that he hadn't had an inkling before, what with his pestering Danny, but it had taken Derek admitting his feelings (or rather growling until Stiles filled in the blanks) to really make Stiles think about it. 

It had taken some convincing, but Stiles persuaded Derek that telling his Dad would be a good idea. He hated lying to his Dad, and he was pretty sure he knew that his son had been lying to him, which only made Stiles feel worse about himself. 

His dad finally joined him at the table and leaned back in his chair. He made a motion for Stiles to spill, and then the floodgates were released. 

Stiles explained everything, starting from the body in the woods, explaining the whole werewolf situation, all the way through the Kanima scare and the alpha pack infestation, ending in how the pack was totally stable now and how everyone was fine and like a little family.

"My pack, Dad. They're all my pack."

The Sheriff stared for a few moments, making Stiles wriggle in his seat until he got nervous enough to offer the plate of bacon he had prepared. His Dad just shook it off and made some mumbled excuse of forgetting some papers back at the office. He didn't let Stiles see him slide his gun into his holster as he walked out the door into the night.


	2. What am I supposed to say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colorado. Colorado was safe. Stiles would be safe there. No werewolves, no supernatural crap to take away his only son, his only family.

The Sheriff pulled his squad car over to the side of the tree-lined road before slowly letting his head sink against the steering wheel.

"My son has been running around unprotected with werewolves." He mutters in disbelief. Then with a disbelieving laugh, "My God, werewolves are real. Suddenly things around this town make a lot more sense."

His mind ran through all the times he knew Stiles was lying to him, and he wonders what kind of danger followed those lies. His son, his only son, was putting himself in the line of fire of who knows what kind of supernatural crap, and there was nothing he could do to stop the boy. As he watched cars drive past on the dark road, occasionally catching a curious look from people wondering why the Sheriff was just sitting in his car, he tried to reassure himself enough to get back home.

Stiles had survived this long. He can’t even imagine what amounts of danger his son had faced and made it through. He had, at the very least, survived a crazed lizard--werelizard?-- and a pack of power-hungry alpha werewolves. His son could handle his own, as he had proven so far.

So far, a small voice in his head echoed. But what if something comes around that this new, inexperienced pack of teenage werewolves can't handle? What if Stiles couldn't get himself out of a sticky situation in the future? A vision flashes in front of the Sheriff, finding Stiles in pieces, like they found Laura Hale (probably also a werewolf, the Sheriff surmised). His stomach filled with lead and he could barely keep his lunch down.

No.

He would not let his only son, his only family left, die because of some supernatural magnet in his town. He had to get his son out of Beacon Hills.

With his mind made up, he started up the car again. As he drove back, he figured out where Stiles could go. He couldn't leave Beacon Hills as Sheriff jobs were hard to come by, and he actually was good at his job. After getting this new information, he was also determined to protect the people from invading supernatural threats. While he didn't want his son in harm's way with Derek Hale's pack, he couldn’t leave the young adults by themselves. He had watched Scott grow up, and he still remembered Derek running around town with his little cousins before the fire. No, he could not leave the town and the young werewolves, but he had to get Stiles out for his own safety.

 

* * *

 

Halfway home, he remembered one of his high school friends who had actually left Beacon Hills and moved to Colorado. He and his wife had two teenagers last time he checked, and the school system in Colorado wasn't too bad. The almost thousand miles between Beacon Hills and northern Colorado didn't hurt either.

By the time he pulled into his driveway, he was considerably calmer, knowing his son would be out of harm's way by the end of the week. Tomorrow was Wednesday, so he could pack up Stiles' things while he was at school, pick him up from school, and start the drive to Colorado immediately.

He had called his friend on the drive home, who was excited to help out an old friend until Stiles graduated in three months. While he drove Stiles out of town, his friends wouldn't be able to follow him, for they were in school for the next two days. They couldn’t slip out, because the new principal had noticed their frequent absences and was keeping a tight watch on their strange group. The only issue left was how he could convince Stiles to let him pick him up from school without being suspicious.

"Stiles?" He called as he walked into the house. The boy popped his head out of his room with a panicky from his room, mouth ready to ramble, but he paused at the look on his dad’s face.

"Kiddo would you… would you let me drive you to school tomorrow? I'm... I'm a little paranoid right now and I just... I don't want to let you out of my sight for a while, ok?" He asked with a tired sigh.

Stiles nodded and started babbling about how he would stay around if he needed reassurance, but the Sheriff just smiled a tight smile and trudged back to the kitchen to grab a beer. He heard Stiles door click closed, and the Sheriff finally breathed out a tired sigh from the day’s ordeals. Partway through his beer, he noticed his son's cell phone sitting on the counter and knew he had to keep his son from it, so he couldn't call his friends to kidnap him from Colorado. He eased up from his chair at the table, and could feel the guilt on his chest weighing heavier the more he plotted against his son.

He could hear his wife chiding him against this entire plan but with a sigh he whispered, “I can't lose him too. I wouldn't survive that dear.” He grabbed Stiles' phone off the kitchen counter, turned it on silent, and slipped it into his pocket.

* * *

 

The next day, the Sheriff dropped his son off in front of the school, smiling lightly as his son slid out of the car in a hurry, ears tinted pink as he ran up the front steps to join Scott.

The man closed his eyes before sighing heavily and pulling out of the parking lot. As soon as he got home, he pulled out a variety of duffel bags and stuffed them with everything he could. He had all of his son’s clothes in the back of his Jeep, and after many struggles he managed to pull his computer down the stairs and into the back of the car. Finally he covered it all with a few blankets and tossed some food in the back for the long drive. The Sheriff walked back upstairs and leaned against the doorframe into Stiles’ room. With a heavy sigh, he apologized to his wife and closed the door.  
The afternoon rolled around much too quickly and he climbed into the Jeep and drove towards Beacon Hills High. Stiles gave him a confused look when he saw the car his Dad was driving, but walked over anyway.

“Dad? Why are you driving the Jeep?” Stiles asked, tossing his backpack into the car.

“It’s a little bit less embarrassing than the squad car, isn’t it?” Stiles nodded a bit, “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward this morning, son. I was just—“

“Worried, I know Dad. But honestly, you don’t have to be. Derek is a great alpha and protects his pack, and everyone has control of their shifting now!” Stiles rambled on about the pack in a proud, fatherly tone.

Oh gosh, he thought, I hadn’t even thought about them not being able to control their shifts.

Stiles chattered on about his friends and school for a good twenty minutes before he noticed they were driving out of town.

“Dad, I think you missed the grocery store.” Stiles said, pointing back at the store off the street they had just passed.

The Sheriff kept driving and didn’t turn to look at his son, willing his tear ducts not to betray him and his willpower.

“Where are we going if we aren’t going to the grocery store, Dad? I have homework to do tonight, and Scott and I were going to play Call of Duty tonight…” Stiles had turned around in his seat to look back at the main street of town that was now behind them, when his eyes fell on the blanketed mass in the back of his car. He unbuckled his seatbelt and wormed his way out of the front seat. He pulled back the blanket to reveal his computer and many duffel bags. To confirm his suspicions, he pulled the zipper to reveal a bag filled with his superhero shirts. He pulled back slowly and turned to stare at his Dad through the rearview mirror. Stiles’ face was frozen in shock, betrayal, and heartbreak, but the Sheriff refused to let his resolve fall. He had to protect him, even if he didn’t understand it yet.

“Dad?”


	3. No Wise Words Gonna Stop The Bleeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wasn’t at school.  
> Stiles didn’t pick up his phone.  
> Stiles didn’t call.  
> Stiles just… disappeared. 
> 
> Derek wolfed out immediately and broke out into a sprint towards the Stilinski house, leaving his pack in the dust.

“Dad?”

Sheriff Stilinski could hear the confusion and panic in his son’s voice, and pushed the gas pedal further to the ground.

“Dad! Dad, what are you doing?” Stiles scrambled back into the front seat so he could try to make eye contact. Sheriff’s rule #6 of interrogation, eye contact weakens their resolve.

“I’m protecting you, Stiles.” He bit the inside of his cheek to hold his resolve.

His son spluttered for a second in the passenger seat, “Protecting me?! Dad, I am at least 42 times safer in Beacon Hills with the pack than where ever the heck you think you can ship me off to!”

Stiles’ claim earned no response, forcing him to desperately try again.

“Dad, please. You know I can always find a way back to Beacon Hills! I can call my friends to come pick me up, it’s not like they can’t drive!” Stiles retorted, but his smug anger subsided when his dad shook his head.

“Your phone is back at the house. You can get a new one in Colorado.” He changed lanes and slid off the freeway onto the highway towards Colorado.

“Colorado?! Are you serious? Why are you sending me there?” Stiles’ face paled as the words sunk in, “You took my phone.”

There was no question in his tone. It was purely accusatory, firmly laced with betrayal.

“You took my phone, Dad?”

If his heart was not already broken, his heart would have been shattered at that moment. His only son, hurt by the one person in the world who was supposed to be protecting him.

“I had to.” He said with a tight voice.

“No. What happened to talking it through Dad? What happened to family? Are you leaving with me? Because the bags in the back aren’t enough for the two of us. How does splitting up our family help me? What is this proving Dad? I have been fine for the past two years!” Stiles was yelling, and he knew that if he bottled up the anger, he would just slip into a panic attack.

“Fine? Stiles, you were beaten by Gerard. And what’s to stop you from getting killed? What if the werewolves couldn’t control their shift? What is Derek couldn’t get to you in time?” He practically spat out the words, trying to expel the thoughts from his mind.

“But they can control it! He always does, Dad!”

“I can’t lose you too, Stiles. I wouldn’t survive this time.”

Stiles pauses. His dad was practically whispering at this point, his voice straining around the obvious lump in his throat. Seeing a parent in pain knocks your whole world on its side, but Stiles couldn’t give it up.

“Dad, I know. I did it to protect you. The pack is strong and relatively stable.” His father just shook his head, and continued to drive too fast down the highway.

Stiles look at him in despair and slowly moved into the back seat. He squished himself up against the window as tightly as possible and quietly sobbed himself to sleep. The Sheriff drove on, never acknowledging the gaping pain in his chest and the salt water on his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

Derek waited on the front porch as his pack pulled up to his house.

Jackson hopped out of the car and with an eye roll, ran over to open to car door for Lydia. Scott eagerly tried to do the same for Allison, but she was already out of the car by the time Scott reached her side of the car. She smiled fondly and patted his cheek, before grabbing his hand and walking towards the house. Erica and Vernon (Derek wondered when they had starting calling him Boyd exclusively, nearly forgetting he possessed a first name) strode out of their car and followed the other up to the porch.

“Where’s Stiles?” Derek asked immediately, noting the absence of the babbling pack member.

The teens all looked around, while Derek raised an eyebrow. Really, for a pack of werewolves, you would think they would be more observant. Stiles is not really easy to overlook, what with the consistent slew of words that no one could seem to shut up. Not that Derek hadn’t considered… non-traditional means of shutting the boy up.

“I think his Dad was picking him up. He apparently was really shaken when Stiles broke the news to him and got a little overprotective.” Scott offered.

Derek huffed and walked into the house. The pack automatically followed him into the newly remodeled house. The teens immediately crowded the couch and turned on the TV despite the arguments over what to watch. Though he would never admit it, Derek felt a little guilty about the situation. He had insisted Stiles fill in his father, after watching the boy nearly come apart at the seams from having to lie to his face every other day. He truly cared about Stiles, but he remembered something Laura had joked about in New York. “18 and legal or no go,” she always said after Derek turned the magical age of 18. She didn’t want a to have to pick him up from jail on her way home from work, she joked many a time.

So he waited. He pushed Stiles away for so long, and finally let him in, but told him that their first date would happen, but only after June 10th. Stiles whined about it, but Derek just rolled his eyes fondly at the boy.

This new relationship however had led to Stiles missing a pack hangout.

“Stop pouting, oh nephew of mine. Just because the jabbering beanpole is spending quality time with his family doesn’t mean he’s left you. Gosh, you’re so needy!” Peter Hale winked as he waltzed through the door and into the kitchen.

Derek sighed heavily at his uncle and leaned back against the island in the kitchen.

“Thank you, Peter. I am well aware that they need time to sort this out.”

Peter smiled his smug, predatory smile, “Good. Then we’re going for a run tonight so you can’t go pine out his window tonight and torture yourself. You’ll talk to him soon enough, you mopey excuse for a werewolf.” Peter bumped him with a smirk and flopped on top of Scott on the couch.

Derek never heard Scott’s indignant sound at the intrusion though, as he was too deep in his own thoughts. Soon, he would see Stiles soon.

 

* * *

 

Friday rolled around, and no one had seen Stiles since Wednesday afternoon.

That’s how Derek was greeted when his pack rolled up to the house again.

Stiles wasn’t at school.  
Stiles didn’t pick up his phone.  
Stiles didn’t call.  
Stiles just… disappeared.

Derek wolfed out immediately and broke out into a sprint towards the Stilinski house, leaving his pack in the dust.

Peter sighed, “Such a dramatic nephew. The Camaro would have been so much faster.”

 

Derek’s frenzied state only worsened as he approached the house. Stiles’ scent had faded ever so slightly from the house, as if he hadn’t been home in days. His Jeep wasn’t in the driveway either. Stiles wasn’t home.

Was he kidnapped again? There wasn’t a sign of struggle, and Derek couldn’t hear Stiles’ heartbeat anywhere in town. He calmed himself enough to retract the claws and grab the spare key stuck under the mat and open the house. He tore up the stairs and into Stiles’ room.

It was empty.

The bed was still there, the desk still stood, but there was nothing there. His books were gone, computer missing, no clothes in the closet, bed made. It was like no one lived there.

Stiles had left.

Derek’s heart sank. Stiles had left. Without so much as a word goodbye, his mate had left him. He had never worked up the courage to tell the teenager that he was his mate. It was going to be a surprise after a few successful dates, so he wouldn’t pressure the boy into anything he didn’t want. Why didn’t he say anything? What had Derek done?

The rest of the pack joined him within a few minutes, confused looks on their faces.

The pack spent the night just sitting on Stiles’ floor. No one sat on the bed, the neatness of it almost eerie. No one knew what to say, what to do. Even Peter’s snarky comments couldn’t lighten the dark cloud of depression that filled the room. The pack had lost a piece of their family, a protector, a friend, a mate, and a best friend. How do you recover from that? None of them had an answer, so they all sat in terrible silence… a silence that could only be broken by the one missing, the one mysteriously gone.

 

* * *

 

Stiles woke up from his nap, shaky from the stress and exhausted from crying.

“Do you need the restroom?” His dad asked, glancing over the seats at the miserable boy.

Stiles nodded, refusing to make eye contact with his traitorous father. His brain flicked into action, refusing to let it go this easily. When they stopped for the bathroom, Stiles would get out of the car, and force his Dad to either turn around or leave him there and he would hitchhike back to Beacon Hills. He could make it work. He had to make it work. He couldn’t be without his friends, his pack, Derek, for months.

“I can always come home.” Stiles mumbled, too tired to raise his voice anymore.

“You’re not eighteen yet. You can’t run away from home, I have connections with the police department where you will be living.” His father sighed quietly.

“And where exactly is that?” He muttered bitterly.

“Fort Collins, Colorado. An old friend of mine lives there, and he has kids in high school. They’ll help you adjust.” He paused, noting his son’s downward spiral, “You’ll be safer there. That’s all I want, son.”

Stiles curled closer into the window, trying to develop his plan further. He couldn’t live in some weird place in Colorado. He needed to live in California, in Beacon Hills.

How had everything gone to hell so quickly? Just a week ago there had been pure bliss in the pack, more or less. Well, Jackson was still there, so maybe just sort-of bliss.

This plan had to work. There wasn’t another option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you for the comments, kudos, and feedback! I can't tell you how much I appreciate it!
> 
> I hope I run out of chapters before I run out of Breakeven lyrics...


	4. They Say Bad Things Happen For A Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Here’s the deal kiddo. You’re going to Colorado to stay with my friend. You’re not going to burn down the state of Colorado in the few months you are there, and I will come pick you up after school ends."

As his dad pulled the Jeep into the deserted rest stop in the middle of nowhere Arizona, Stiles took a few deep breaths to ready himself. He was going to make an ultimatum for his dad and get his human ass back to Beacon Hills.

The parking brake clicked in place and his dad unbuckled and slid out of the car, as his son walked over to the restroom. A few minutes later, the Sheriff walked out of the bathroom and found his son sitting on the Jeep’s hood with a very determined look on his face that always meant he was about to deliver a little speech. With a sigh, the Sheriff set his shoulders and walked over to face whatever speech his son had come up with.

Stiles looked his dad straight in the eyes before taking a deep breath and diving into the deep end. 

“Look Dad, I know you’re worried about my safety. But the reality of this is that I am involved with the pack. Things from outside Beacon Hills know I’m associated with the Hale Pack, so I won’t be safe anywhere else. I can explain everything about the pack and how things work, if that’s what it will take for you to be okay with this. I… I need you to be ok with this, Dad, because you’re all I’ve got left…” Stiles paused, voice fading a bit, “But I am going back to Beacon Hills. You can’t send me away. They only way I’m going to get back into the Jeep is if it’s headed back to California.”

The Sheriff walked forward and leaned on the hood of the car, “This is nonnegotiable, Stiles. I promised… Your mother always talked about your Graduation day, and how proud she was of you. If I can’t keep you safe enough to even get there, I failed not only you, but your mother as well. It’s just a few months there, son.”

Stiles settled a stony look on his father, but he pressed on.

“Here’s the deal kiddo. You’re going to Colorado to stay with my friend. You’re not going to burn down the state of Colorado in the few months you are there, and I will come pick you up after school ends. In the meantime, I am going to work with Derek Hale and the other…werewolves and with Chris Argent until Beacon Hills is a downgraded from battleground status to normal damn town. Then you can come back.”

The Sheriff sighed when the hurt look never faded from his son’s face. “I’m just getting you out of the line of fire. I don’t want to remove you from your friends—“

“Family.” Stiles corrected stubbornly. 

The older man balked, realizing just how much of his son’s life he had missed. With a nod, he continued, “I don’t want to remove you from your family, but your safety comes first. That’s my only job in life. I couldn’t protect your mother, but I am sure as hell going to protect you.”

The muscles in Stiles’ face relaxed at this. He pushed down the wave of guilt at the pain he was causing his father, trying to hold up the anger, the determination.

“The deal is, you write a letter to your friends, telling them you’ll see them soon. No secret code to have a rescue team or anything like that. You write them that letter and promise not to run away before you’ve graduated, and I’ll protect them. I will treat Derek Hale and the rest of your… family, like my own. I’ll make sure there’s a town, home, and family to come back to in a few months, ok kiddo? But I- I can’t go forward if I live with the worry that you might not come home from school every day. No amount of disgusting and supposedly healthy foods could save me from what that would do to me.”

There was a quiet that shouldn’t exist alongside a highway at a rest stop surrounded by dust. Stiles was no longer glaring at his dad, but rather figuring out his escape routes. Demanding to go home could put his dad’s heart over the edge, but living in Colorado could put his own heart there. With a small sigh, Stiles huffed and slid off the Jeep’s hood. 

“So, no writing Scott that you’re locking me away in a tower in the mystical land of Colorado and as my alpha he needs to come rescue me?” The Sheriff rolled his eyes, glad that the tense atmosphere had lifted slightly. 

“No, unfortunately Scott might actually believe that and come chasing after you like a lost puppy.” The man sighed, wondering how the two little boys he used to have to bribe with cookies to play t-ball had gotten mixed up in this mess. 

“Actually, the lost puppy would probably be Isaac.” The quirked eyebrow spurred Stiles on, “The one with blonde curly hair? He would probably rather eat horseradish than hurt a fly.”

“Horseradish?”

Stiles nodded sagely, “Yeah, nasty stuff. And imagine smelling it with a werewolf nose? Gross. None of them like it, except Scott, but then again Scott has always been a little bit different.”

“Stiles.” The firmness of his voice makes Stiles close his eyes and sigh. “You’re not going to convince me like this. I’m sorry.”

Stiles inhales deeply before holding out a hand expectantly to his dad. The man gave his a confused look for a moment before Stiles mumbled, “I need paper to write a letter, don’t I? Since I don’t have my phone.”

The Sheriff nodded and fumbled around in the back of the Jeep for a few minutes before returning with a slightly crumpled piece of paper and an old motel pen. Stiles took it and his dad opened the passenger door to the Jeep.

“Come on kiddo, you can write in the car. We have a long drive still to Colorado.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is short, I'm swamped with finals coming up, but once the semester ends, I'll have a lot more itme to update this with longer chapters!
> 
> Speaking of updates, I am one of the authors on the AO3 auction (http://ao3auction.tumblr.com/FAQ) so if you bid on me, I will write you a story of your choosing! Just something to keep in mind.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for the comments and kudos and for being interested in general!


End file.
